


One in a million

by VanillaMostly



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Canon Compliant, POV Minor Character, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 16:11:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1905405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VanillaMostly/pseuds/VanillaMostly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A man like Tywin isn't to fall for just any lady.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One in a million

Many people told Joanna she was beautiful. She supposed she was, being no stranger to her own reflection, but she took no pleasure in thinking so. From her experience, beauty was not a blessing, but a curse, a harbinger of problems.

Maybe it would have been different if she had been born of higher birth, with a mother and father to look after her and care for her, but that was not the hand she had been dealt with. Her mother died when she was still a babe, and her father didn't waste any time marrying another woman and starting a new family. Stafford, her only full-blood brother, was six years her senior and distant by default. At seven, Joanna had been sent off to a relation - a Lannister of higher standing, but still of Lannisport, not Casterly Rock - and served the little lady there as her playmate and handmaiden. The mistress of the house had been kind enough, but when Joanna flowered and her husband began giving Joanna looks, the kindness fell short. She almost wed Joanna to a house knight, three times Joanna's age with beadier eyes and grabbier hands than even the mistress's husband; that was what "beauty" got her into. But Joanna's prayers must have paid off, because the house knight died from falling off his horse when the betrothal was days-old, and Joanna was instead shuffled off to the royal court, to attend Princess Rhaella upon her coming-of-age.

For nearly a year Joanna had kept her head low and had done well doing it. The princess had more than enough ladies to wait on her, and Joanna always made sure to hang at the back, keeping quiet, too happy on letting other ladies-in-waiting simper and soak up the spotlight. But one day, going up the stairs in the large keep, she'd had the ill luck to encounter Prince Aerys on his way down. She'd had no choice but to curtesy and greet him formally, which got him to, of course, stare at her long and hard. He'd grabbed her arm when she tried to leave and if his friend hadn't made an appearance right then, calling his name, she didn't want to think where she'd be now.

Her trouble didn't end, of course, because after that Prince Aerys began to use his sister as an excuse to see Joanna, and he wasn't subtle about it. When the princess summoned Joanna for a private word, Joanna grimly looked forward to a discharge at the best and an execution at the worst, only to be - for once - pleasantly surprised.

"Don't be silly," the princess told her, "there's no way I blame you. I know my brother. Any girl he lays eyes on... dear Joanna, I called you here to warn you to be careful."

Joanna was good at reading people, a skill she'd long had to depend on to survive, and she knew from looking at the princess that the princess was telling the truth. That did discomfit her even more about Aerys - but it also made her unequivocally grateful to the princess. From then on, the princess kept her close, and Joanna returned the favor as well as she could by being the best company her princess could ask for. It turned out that she didn't have to pretend; Rhaella was much more down-to-earth than Joanna had thought, and soon enough she knew she'd made a true friend.

Being in the princess's inner circle was a strange feeling. On one hand, that elicited the other ladies' envy, something by now Joanna was used to; on the other hand, that earned Joanna the princess's protection, something she was _not_ used to.

The only other lady who could understand was Rhaella's longtime friend and "big sister" figure, daughter of the Prince of Dorne. She was much older than both Rhaella and Joanna, and - Joanna learned in those conversations in Rhaella's room, with just the three of them - already a mother. Lady Arianne, laughing at Joanna's shock, told her the Dornish ways were different. She'd conceived her son Doran at fourteen with her betrothed, and their wedding was simply expedited as a result. "Lovemaking isn't quite so scandalous in our land," Arianne said, winking. "No, we're downright proud of it."

Joanna quickly warmed to this bold and funny lady of Dorne. She admired Arianne's frivolity and independence... at the same time knowing she could never wish the same for herself. Arianne was born to inherit Dorne one day; it didn't matter whom she married, her husband would always yield to her, and not the other way around. But Joanna was born a Lannister out of many Lannisters, of Lannisport, not Casterly Rock, and she had to watch her back.

* * *

Tywin was his name, and what a coincidence, he was also a Lannister. Of Casterly Rock, though.

"He likes you," Rhaella whispered as she and Joanna watched the young lord return to the castle.

"No, he doesn't," said Joanna automatically, reaching to brush stray blond strands from her face. "He recognized me from that time, that's all." She'd recognized him, too; he had been the friend of Aerys who had called the prince away at the opportune time, unknowingly rescuing Joanna.

Rhaella smiled at Joanna, slow-like. "You like _him._ "

Joanna opened her mouth to deny this, but, still staring at the doorway Tywin had disappeared into, she found herself replaying their brief conversation in her head; remembering the way he'd enunciated his words, the way he stood, tall and calm, courteous but cool; the way his green eyes looked at her, a gaze clean and sharp as glass. Joanna was honest with herself, she always made certain of that. She did like him. So be it. "Do you think he knows?"

She didn't care if others knew, she just didn't want to frighten him.

Rhaella laughed. "A man like him? Stone-faced like that? I don't think he'd know unless you went up and told him."

 _Maybe I will_. Joanna decided to keep that thought to herself.

* * *

The next time they crossed paths, she asked him to stay. "Please, my lord, I'd feel lonely here by myself."

Joanna was never lonely; in fact, she often preferred some time to herself, much fond as she was of Rhaella and Arianne. But she did indeed want some time alone with Tywin, and with him always by Aerys's side, or else out there rebuilding Casterly Rock single-handedly to prestige, from the sound of it, this was a rare enough chance.

He was reticent at first, answering her questions with single phrases or words, but soon he was talking more. He liked to talk about his plans, the retributions he sought, "debts" to be paid; in this, he was not different from other sixteen-year-olds. Joanna let him talk, nodding and prompting him at the right places, the image of the perfect listener, but in truth she took this time to observe him, read him as was her forte. She caught the furrow of his brows when he spoke of the king's directions with the realm. She caught the impatience in his eyes when he spoke of those older lords at court, stuck in the ways of the old days. She caught the tension in his jaw when he spoke, even so briefly, of his father.

When she asked him about a wife- "Surely you have thought of a bride to fortify your alliances, my lord?" - she caught the pause that snagged the air, as well as the way he dropped his gaze for a moment.

"I haven't," he replied brusquely. "That's a lesser concern."

She accepted this with a blithe, "I see," and asked him if he would like more tea. He looked about to say no, but when she smiled at him, he haltingly nodded.

She caught the slight flinch of his hand when she reached over, leaning close to him to pour into his cup.

To close up, she asked if she could write to him. "News travels slow here," she told him, "and I miss having a steady correspondence with someone back home."

Casterly Rock and Lannisport hardly counted as the same home, but Tywin didn't look like he was too heavy on this distinction. He also didn't look like a man who thought highly of letters, but as she had hoped for - and really, predicted; she never took chances of less than eighty-percent likelihood - he replied with a gruff, "As you wish, my lady."

"Joanna," she corrected, giving him another smile.

This time _anyone_ could have caught the glow in his cheeks.

* * *

His replies to her letters were slow and intermittent, but each letter, she could tell, he spent his time on. He wrote like he talked: straightforward, concise. His penmanship was so very like him, too: strong, neat, ordered. She kept all of the letters from him by her bed, so that at night she'd re-read some of them by candlelight, the parchment becoming wrinkled and worn in her hands.

In the letters they began to speak more personally; Joanna, who normally disclosed as little of her past as possible, wrote about her family, her brother, and her time before coming to court. Tywin didn't elaborate much more about his father, which she respected, but he did describe some of his childhood; she smiled, imagining him as a young, no doubt just as serious boy. She learned that he was also impressively well-read, and shared her love for the archaic works. They traded many of their favorite quotes back and forth.

"It's going well now, is it?" Rhaella asked her one evening.

Joanna was brushing the princess's hair at her dressing table; glancing up at the looking glass, Joanna saw herself smiling without realizing. "What is?"

"Your Tywin," said Rhaella.

If Joanna thought herself above it before, she knew she was deep in it now; she witnessed her reflection flushing before her very eyes. "Yes, it's... it's going alright."

"Good."

Joanna paused, the comb midway through Rhaella's silvery silken tresses. "What's wrong?"

She hadn't noticed until now - rather shameful, it should have been obvious - that her princess was speaking without her usual sunny inflection.

Rhaella turned slowly to face her. "Father is going to make me marry Aerys."

Joanna had no words to say. She glanced around out of habit, expecting to see Arianne there with her vivacious grin, who would surely know what to say... but Arianne had left for Dorne a month ago to see to her father's passing, and was not like to come back anytime soon. It was just her and Rhaella now.

When Rhaella folded into her, crying, Joanna could only put her arms around her friend and stroke her hair. Her own happiness from earlier felt superficial, ages away.

* * *

The next time she saw Tywin, it was he who sought her out.

This time it was she who was reticent, taking his offered arm in silence.

"...Joanna?"

She looked up at him, blinking.

"You seem distraught," Tywin said, frowning deeply.

She laughed, touched by his concern, but too late she realized he did not see it that way.

"If I have done something to offend you," he said, his arm stiffening beneath her hand, "you should tell me. Forgive me if that was harsh, but I thought we agreed to be honest with each other."

He was hurt, she could tell. Her heart contracted in guilt, if it was possible that her heart could handle any more guilt. "No, it's not your fault. It's-"

He stopped, turning to give her his full attention, and so Joanna took a deep breath, and told him.

He was not pleased, as she knew he would not be. He was friends with Aerys, but he was not the sort of man to be blinded by bias. He'd seen the prince's tendencies towards women.

"Did he try to-"

Joanna shook her head. "I never gave him much a chance to try anything," she said. "But this wedding to Rhaella... now he sees me as more of a challenge, I think."

He looked at her, his jaw set in that trademark way of his. "You should leave this court."

"And go where? Should I become a septa?"

She was five-and-ten with no home, no proper family. She didn't want to leave Rhaella either, when she most needed someone.

"If you wed me, you could go with me."

She stared at him, disbelieving.

For the first time she saw him smile, just a tiny one, but it was there all the same. "Finally," he said, "I've made you speechless."

Seeing that smile, in all its rarity, made Joanna suddenly understand other girls her age and just what they meant by "weak in the knees."

* * *

Telling Rhaella goodbye was the hardest part. Rhaella was brave and kind to the end, telling Joanna as she embraced her, "I'm happy for you. He is a good man."

"Thank you."

"Your marriage will be a different one from mine," said Rhaella with a smile that could break Joanna's heart.

Joanna clutched her friend tight. "Take care. Don't let him hurt you. You're worth a hundred of him. I'll come back and see you..."

"No, don't. Don't do that for me."

This time it was Rhaella who held Joanna as Joanna cried.

* * *

"You're beautiful," Tywin said to her on their wedding night, in her ear, that one-in-a-million smile on his face.

Joanna was Lady of the Rock now, never would be a nameless Lannister girl, with no home to call her own. She closed her eyes, remembering when she used to dread being called beautiful, thinking it was a curse, leading to a path downtrodden and doomed. Not anymore.

"I'm yours," she replied.


End file.
